


Butterflies and Bullet Wings

by satalderihannsu



Category: Black Jack (Anime & Manga), Young Black Jack - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Developing Friendships, Erectile Dysfunction, Impotence, M/M, Medical Kink, Medical knowledge, Old Ideas About Homosexuality, Oral Sex, Outmoded mores, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rain, Scars, Skinship, Touching, Unspoken Love, Vietnam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 19:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10287818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satalderihannsu/pseuds/satalderihannsu
Summary: After sharing a battlefield operating room, the mysterious white-haired doctor and the young medical student take the edge off in a way that young men should never, and too often do, when far from home. A shameless PWP exploring homosexual sex when its not okay, everyone hurts, and men of science fear their feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DVDemoni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DVDemoni/gifts).



The night sky had been bright earlier, the full moonlight cutting through the high humidity. By this deep part of the night, though, clouds were heavy bellied with the daily rains. The butterflies that had been fluttering earlier had taken shelter under leaves and eaves, slowly waving their wings to dry them. A small pile of cigarette ends was cold beside two men.

Perhaps the heavy atmosphere, or the lingering pain, kept Hazama unfocused and let his mind wander. It was odd, he thought, this feeling of  _ wanting _ . He had long been aware that he hadn't been attracted to women up until now. He assumed it was related to a combination of his likely unique constitution and his unique levels of focus. But this was a different leap. He was sitting beside another man, trading cigarette smoke and whiskey. He was amazed at this man’s medical ability, at his ferocity, and also enthralled by his smile and intensity. It was, unquestionably, a sexual interest in a man. He knew that there was a degree of sensuality between men, but he had successfully ignored its pull until this point.

Perhaps it was just his own perversity. Many had made much of his perverseness, his unwillingness to simply go with what was expected of him. Perhaps (though he’d never quite admit it aloud) Dr. Honma had hooked up something in him incorrectly? Even now as they sat on the bench together, the taste of whiskey on his tongue and that wild, almost feral, grin on the other, soft laughter between them: even now, the thought came over him of what it might be to silence that wicked laughter by pressing his lips to the other doctor's own.

The more experienced doctor watched the young medical student drinking fully. They had switched to water as they both knew they had already had enough of precious alcohol. Hazama was messy, and it spilled down his throat. The doctor smirked: if he'd thought the boy was cute when he'd landed, he was head over heels after watching him work. The older man finished his smoke thoughtfully. It wasn't easy getting chances to enjoy his urges, but he could feel the want boiling off the kid. They were both high from the adrenaline of the day, and both needed to blow off steam. He didn't think he was off base about this attraction. If he was wrong, he didn't even think that this Hazama kid even knew his name. Yeah, that was probably enough layers for a double blind.

Still, it wouldn't do to just seduce him. He took the canteen from Hazama's hand, touching lightly over the boy’s fingers, and drank a swig of his own. He laughed out loud at the bright shock displayed in the kid's peculiar red-brown eyes.  _ Damn, he’s gorgeous. Does he even realize....? _

Hazama dropped his hands into his lap, curling the fingers of the hand the other man had touched, and rubbed his thumb over the place where their fingers had brushed together. He grew quiet but watched the foreign doctor. Had he intended that? Naturally, he must have. Even intoxicated, this doctor’s skill mandated that he be perpetually aware of his actions, his surroundings. Would initiating that sort of intimacy destroy everything he was working for? His career? His life? Homosexual relations weren't exactly an acceptable mode of sexuality. But Hazama dearly wanted to press a hand to the other man's chest, to feel that heartbeat, to make it speed underneath the touch.

"You're really not that bad," the doctor said, softly. "In fact, I could stand to have you beside me, working with me, more often." He watched to see if the heat in his words was having an effect. He could see Hazama's pulse jumping in his throat. He was so fresh, so raw.  _ I bet he'll make the most beautiful choked sounds _ . He quieted his own libido, waiting to see if his nattering would inspire anything in the other, or if he should just take himself to bed and take care of matters on his own. "Yes, you might need a guiding hand,  _ experience _ , but your youth and  _ want  _ to do is good enough for right now, for tonight.”

Hazama could not stop perceiving how the man was sharp and gleaming in the moonlight. Bright. Like the glint of a scalpel. Hazama'd not been fearful before: not during surgery and not during any other part of life. How could he approach the world with fear when he’d already died and been given life again? And yet this somehow felt dangerous. Not lethal, but dangerous. He reached out a hand, and touched the other's ID tags, feeling the warmth of them, and feeling the faint pulse beneath them.

_ Bold moves, kid, but you’re still leaving yourself an escape route _ , the doctor thought. The doctor continued talking, though in a softer voice. He deepened his breathing, and wondered if Hazama would notice that his pupils were dilating a bit. "You're very,” he paused, “quick. I hope you aren't  _ always  _ so quick." He chuckled. Then he did it: he licked his lips. It was an intentionally crass gesture. He even felt heat collecting in his own groin.

A dilation at the eyes, a sudden jump in pulse. Hazama was feeling it too. He leaned in slowly, and tilted his head, like he'd seen on movie posters.

The doctor smiled.  _ Oh, he is adorable _ . He accepted, even enjoyed, that sweet fantasy kiss for a moment, and let the kid do as he wanted. The doctor let his eyes close briefly, and sighed a little for encouragement. And as the kid kissed him, it became obvious that his natural intuitiveness about bodies, and sharp, quick motions in his own body, were as prodigious in this matter as in medicine. But it was only so long that he was going to let this delicate work go on. He kissed back, wolfishly. He did not grab or hug Hazama, though. He left him ample room to pull back if he thought better of it. But with lips he coaxed and  _ demanded _ . The body language sent a clear message:  _ If you want this, you’ll not ease delicately into it. You  _ take _ it. _

Their lips worked against one another's slowly, building with intensity. The doctor increased the pace, increased the heat of the interaction. Hazama’s hand still pressed against the other man's chest, feeling the wild heartbeat through his fingertips. The doctor allowed soft, affirmative sounds to come from his throat. Hazama wasn't fleeing yet, so he brushed hands over his astonishingly scarred shoulders. He explored the texture of the skin, and teased at the boy's lips with his tongue. “Come on,” he whispered to the kid, “touch what you want.”

Hazama gasped as a sensitive patch of skin was brushed by those warm fingers. He nearly pushed away, the intensity startling him.

The doctor thought,  _ What is he, twenty-one? Two?  _ And he was this skilled in the surgeon's craft? There was no way he'd explored male-to-male sexuality at this point: when would he have had the time? But here he was, launching himself into it with as much bravery as the doctor who jumped out of perfectly good helicopters. He liked that little gasp, so stroked him a little more intently. 

Hazama worked his fingertips up along that patch of skin from the doctor’s heart and up over those prominent collarbones, along his carotid and final up into that bright blond hair. The elder between them pulled them close together then. He pressed hands against Hazama's back, ran them downward, then shoved his undershirt up to feel. "Damn, more?" he said, coming into contact with more old, but prominent scars. He leaned in to kiss at one on his shoulder. "Car wreck?" he asked.

Hazama flushed. Those skillful, slender fingers traced along his scars, probing gently at the places they intersected. The touch elevated his breathing and bloomed blood in his cheeks. "Unexploded bomb.” He spoke plainly, if a little breathily.

"It's not still  _ un _ exploded, I take it?" the doctor asked with his mouth very close to Hazama's ear. His heart broke a little as he thought of the pain he must have endured. Better to take his mind off of it. He switched tactics, letting his hands wander downward and squeezing tightly over hipbones. "How far you want to take it tonight?" he purred against Hazama's neck.

The soft strokes down Hazama’s body and along his thigh distracted him quickly from the topic of his childhood traumas. "How far?"

The doctor kissed again and continued touching at Hazama’s waist. "I'm guessing this is pretty new to you. Don't want to push you when it's not wanted. So you get to say what you want." The doctor, for one, wanted to take Hazama to the hut with which he'd been provided, lay him out, and work out all the tension of the day. That want, however, was no reason to spoil Hazama's possibly (probably) first time. He nibbled at the kid’s neck. "So what do you say: stay like this?" A pet to his back. "Maybe I suck you off?" A kiss to his clavicle. "Or if you want to try further, I just happen to have supplies that could easily be adapted to anal sex." A gentle touch to Hazama's backside. "Or something more creative. I’ll work with your choice." He offered the most comforting smile a wolf could.

Hazama’s eyes widened in shock. How very open! He bought himself some time by pulling the doctor back down into a kiss as his thoughts raced. Hazama was willing to explore, but he would have to explain certain, ah, issues. But should he wait until the time came, or now? After a moment of soul-searching, he made a decision that was no decision at all. Fully-informed consent was best, he supposed. Why sugarcoat reality for a man who jumped from helicopters? "It doesn’t really matter. I’d like to do whatever would be most pleasurable for you. I’m afraid anything aimed at me would have little effect."

That took the doctor aback. "Little effect? What’s that mean?"

Hazama leaned back on the bench, but left his hands where they had been. "These scars are a map of a great man’s work. However, though he had the hands of a god, he was not actually divine. In the process of my many surgeries and eventual healing, not everything seems to have recovered.” He gestured dismissively to his groin. “I lack certain sexual functions. It has made for less distraction in getting to this point in my career, so I can't complain. But you can understand why something like oral sex would be wasted on me."

The doctor stared at him a moment, then found himself smothering a giggle. The giggle exploded into laughter. He held onto Hazama to keep him from falling, then stood. "What kind of medical student are you with such limited thinking?" He kissed Hazama's grumpy, stunned lips and coaxed him to the hut. "Come here and we'll see what's wasted and what's not." He should have expected as much, with so much damage evident. But the kid responded to touches on his body. He was getting aroused, even if his genitals were stubborn or damaged. That meant he could feel pleasure  _ some _ how. And while the doctor didn't care to waste time on  _ systematic  _ exploration, he enjoyed  _ creative  _ exploration. He tugged Hazama to the hut, and began to diligently snog him. There was no reason to tread delicately now.

Hazama found himself instantly caught up in the raw, determined emotion.  _ Oh. Oh, god _ . The press of the other man against him, pressing him against the wall of the hut, stirred a heat to his blood that he hadn’t fully expected. This was stimulation in a new way as the older doctor's hands slid up under his undershirt and slid fully, warmly up and down his back and sides. It occurred to Hazama that, if this man cared so much for sensual play, it might be possible to make him lose control. He echoed motions, running his hands up into that soft pale hair, and tugged at it to pull him deeper into the kiss. He teased forward with his tongue. Never let it be said that he backed down from a challenge.

The doctor marvelled at how quick the kid was. At the pull to his hair he had to rock his hips to stay upright. He wished they had a better structure available so he could  _ (fuck him against the wall right here right now)  _ brace against the wall and hold him back for kissing. This kiss was turning into a fight--a life-affirming, prove-we're-real fight. He knew he had to pull back, get a little clinical, to stave off the inevitable for a bit. "So, intern... tell me about male sexual arousal," he growled into Hazama's ear before biting gently at his earlobe.

Hazama pulled back, panting. "Sexual stimulation of the human male is a result of psychological, neuronal, vascular changes, as well as changes in the the local genital area." He shivered, and pressed his mouth against the other man's adam's apple, and kissed. Hazama didn’t know the reason for the pop quiz, but had grown accustomed to having an answer perpetually ready.

The doctor groaned loudly at the suckling at that location. He hadn't expected the force with which he rocked against Hazama. He shuddered and collected himself again. "Perfect..." he purred out, not sure if he was praising the kid’s knowledge or actions.

Hazama didn't care at the moment. He'd found a chink in the armour, and he found that he liked hearing the other pant and occasionally groan as he kissed and licked at this spot. Finally, he decided to suck. "Yes, like that!" the doctor panted. His hips bucked without his intent, and he was harder than he quite remembered being ever. Those lips and tongue were working over a weak spot on him. He held the boy's hips and ground against him, holding back a needy cry. He pulled back at last, brightly flushed at muscles tensed for action. "That's... a perfect... application," he at last gasped. He grinned down at the similarly flushed face and challenge-filled eyes. 

Hazama’s nose was filled with the scent of the other man's sweat and aftershave, a light but masculine thing. He panted softly, and looked him up and down briefly before the other doctor pulled him to the straw matting. He caught those ID tags again, and pulled him in for another kiss. His thumb running across the name. As he was pulled down, he got a glance at it. "Kiri--." The rest of the name was indistinguishable.

The older man laid out the boy, and smiled. "I bet you've been fairly frustrated, haven't you?" he said with a slight laugh. "You like having your skin touched, you like kisses to your neck, don't you?" He mirrored each action with the appropriate touch. He started to tug down Hazama's trousers slowly. Scars followed the lines of his body indeed all the way down, with greater clusters over his center mass and lower body. He had a suspicion that the young Kuroo Hazama had in fact been separated from his legs. He stroked those scars at the tops of his thighs repeatedly. "Here's sensitive, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yes." He cupped the other man's cheek as he leaned back in for another kiss. "I know that all of that works. All parts work. But my genitals have only mild sensation if I have any." The kisses were more gentle as the other man listened.

As he considered, the doctor continued stroking. After the almost condescending kiss, the doctor let himself look down. Indeed, the skin of Hazama's penis was tight, the expected swelling present, if not strong. No matter, he hadn't expected him to be wrong about his own body. He let his hands stroke inward, toward his groin, then back. He cupped Hazama's testicles. Likely these would still appreciate some attention. He pressed a long, slow kiss to Hazama's lips while starting to squeeze. He used his palm, letting his long fingers trail back between his legs.

"I would not expect you to be so uninventive.” He undid the buttons of the other man's shirt, and trailed fingers down along his chest and stomach. Thin, but strongly built, and warm beneath Hazama's palms. "I'm not a physical issue to be dealt with." He glared, but didn't move his hands. "I never said I could not feel pleasure. Just that oral sex was wasted on me." He stroked a hand up the other man's hip, feeling the structure there through the fabric. "I think I want to know all of you. I think that's where my pleasure might lie." He pressed his lips to the other man's pulse in his wrist, and squeezed gently at his hip with his other hand, to feel with his lips the jump in the doctor’s pulse. The doctor even gulped.   
None of these responses were intentional. He was astonished that he, an experienced wartime doctor, could have his breath taken away by this fierce young doctor. No, a student! He parted his lips and tried to find words. "You want to take pleasure in, um..." He was not going to beg. Hazama found his own smug smirk. Had he called a bluff? Those passion-filled eyes told him yes. The doctor touched his cheek and stroked downward, finally coming to his lips. He petted them. They were unbelievably soft. He bit his own lips in wonderment. "I have to say, I'm glad I parachuted into this terrible place."

Hazama smiled, a secretive little smile, and kissed his fingertips. He pressed them more firmly to his mouth, and kissed down them and into the palm. The doctor was handsome, though that hardly mattered. The determination, skills, and an ability to not care about his own safety when a patient needed him: a true doctor. He shivered as he felt the fingers of his companion’s other hand trail over the scar on his hip.

“But you'll never get your license if you keep torturing people." he grumbled, then laughed.

He looked up at the doctor, and could see the change in the pale skin from where he was flushed. "Luckily, gaining a medical license does not require a test like this." He felt the fingertips press slightly but still insistently at his lips.

"Part your lips, Hazama." The edge was in his voice, but not yet pleading. He licked his own breathlessly. "I need to stop such ridiculous talk."

He allowed him to press forward just slightly, but then pulled back. Hazama believed that this preamble might be unnecessary. He wasn’t quite willing to admit to himself that he was so eager. And lips were capable of sensitive, delicate touches, and were themselves sensitive.

"I don't believe that your fingers are all you want between my lips."

The older man glowered softly. "And what makes you so sure?" Though his hips hitched forward as Hazama stroked softly down his hipbones. His cock jumped hard at the flutter of his eyelashes.

Hazama looked up at him, and traced his fingertips down along his chest, over his stomach and trailed at just the top of his trousers. He leaned forward, and kissed him gently.

He did not moan, but heat flooded his body, radiating from his sex center. The doctor ached for those lips, those perfect lips. He wanted to take his mouth roughly, shut up his cleverness while still knowing it was there, waiting for a moment to think, to needle. He wanted to know that he was dominating that beautiful, brilliant boy's abilities. The doctor put a hand to the button of his own trousers to open them for easier access. Their mouths battled against one another's as he unzipped the front his trousers.

When Hazama touched, he he could feel the groan from the other man more than hear it. He stroked along the top of the doctor’s underwear and dipped his fingers just beneath the waistband. Embarrassment flooded over him. He'd touched bodies, both living and dead, before--why feel shy about it now?  _ Idiot _ , he mentally chastised himself, _ you've never touched in this context. _

The older man felt the hesitation. He was crisply aware of Hazama's youth and special circumstances. He touched gently to the back of his head, petting through the two-tone hair. He broke their deep kiss to say, "Nothing you don't want, okay? Stop what you don't like. You can handle that, right?" He offered a light challenge in his body language, something for the spitfire to fight, then kissed his neck.

Hazama nodded and returned more intently to the kiss. He had enjoyed the sensation of his hair being stroked through, and it had eased his tension. He stroked both hands over the other doctor's hips, and worked those trousers down, the other man helping out by curling and slipping out of them.

The relief let him sigh loudly. There wasn't even a temperature shock in this hot climate. He pet Hazama constantly, keeping that contact between them. Between kisses, he purred, "Touch whatever's interesting."

"All of you is interesting." It was true. A brave doctor of an obviously somewhat distinguished career, and he was risking it all to be here? With a medical student? He stroked a hand down to just above the other man's base, just listening to the hitch in his breathing. He experimented, brushing his lips against the smooth surface of a prominent collarbone, feeling the smooth skin.

A laugh. "For a virgin, you're quite the flirt." His heart caught in his chest for a moment. If people like him could love, then he might have instantly fallen for Kuroo Hazama right then and there. But that didn't bear consideration. Homosexuals didn’t get love--they just had furtive moments like these, far away from home. At least they could have this contact, for this night, anyway. He rolled his hips appreciatively, and hissed through his teeth. Hazama continued his work and gently licked at the collarbone. Then he teased southward down the doctor’s chest and caught his nipple. He was simply exploring what he thought might be the best approach. When the doctor had offered "anything interesting," he hadn't expected Hazama to be so willing to exlore. The doctor didn't usually get this kind of treatment. Sex for people like him was usually "wham, bam, thank you, sir," and didn't always include the thank you. He realized, suddenly, that his mouth had been going without him giving it permission. What was he saying? He listened to himself and caught, "Oh, god, yeah, you're a genius, pleee--!" He caught himself before the rest of the word leaked out.

Hazama pulled back and looked him up and down. He tried not to show lack of confidence on his face. He nodded instead, accepting the praise, and leaned down to the doctor’s groin, pulling the underwear completely down, watching. He hadn’t expected the flood of his own interest in a man’s penis, fully erect. This was not anatomical, medical, cold. He cupped the length in his hand, his fingers testing the girth. A shiver went up his back as the pressure outside changed, the approaching thunderstorm more insistent now, the first cool breeze hitting him. He licked his lips, and stretched out on his stomach.

The first loud, heavy raindrops hit the roof at the first touch of Hazama's lips to hot, tight skin. The doctor held his breath lest his voice betray him again, and simply touched his hair, his ear, his cheek. As might be expected, Hazama found the man's scent was stronger here, naturally, but clean. He brushed his lips against the head, a velvety smoothness that was pleasant in texture. He blew gently against the skin, experimentally. The doctor caught his heart fluttering again with want. He focused on the sensuality of Hazama's lips. Those lips were touching another man's sex for the first time: a perfect apple that the doctor was about to bruise.

Hazama ran his tongue along the head, and dipped under it, pressing his lips to the frenulum: one of the rare points at which his own penis was sensitive. Yes, even now there was a quickening of pulse against his palm that was pressed against the older man's inner thigh.

The doctor groaned and clenched his eyes shut for a moment. His body quaked as he resisted the need to thrust. He looked down again and noticed something remarkable: Hazama’s hips were tilted, and allowed view of evidence of Hazama’s error in believing himself completely impotent.  _ Sympathetic nervous response? _ he thought. No reason to mention the obvious swelling yet. He wouldn't want to make Hazama self-conscious. But it was exciting that a man who claimed total dysfunction would grow hard at sucking him off. His prick jumped in response to the knowledge. His unruly member booped Hazama's nose.

Hazama jerked back, covering his nose with the back of his hand. He looked up with a slight glare. It was hard to tell in this light if that was a look of chagrin or not on the older doctor's face. He seriously doubted chagrin. He resumed, this time holding the other's member to his lips, and then pressed down over with a gentle amount of pressure.

"Oh god yes," the doctor whispered a little shamelessly. He did hitch his hips up a bit. He was quickly losing control. Hazama looked up, watching the him. He took him a little deeper, not finding the momentary loss of air discomforting in the slightest. This wasn't unpleasant he found, and the soft noises the other man made were indeed having a slight effect on him. He pulled back and licked at remaining saliva around the head. The doctor bit down on his lower lip to keep from simply staring agape. For a beginner, Hazama was wonderful. Knowledge wasn't a substitute for experience, but it was a great compliment to the interest he showed. He was rapidly losing control, his hips quivering. The sight, and feel, of him licking like this! He touched Hazama's shoulders and stroked over them. "You are very talented," he said through heavy panting.

Hazama closed his eyes and kept going until a stray finger trailed down the long surgical scar along his spine. Without realizing, he moaned low around the prick in his mouth.

_ Oo-ohhhhhh _ . There? The doctor stroked again, coming back up in the other direction. The moan was undoing him very fast, but he was determined to coax pleasure out of Hazama. He shifted upward. He didn't thrust, and was careful to not choke the boy, but wanted to be able to stretch fingers over his back and sides, back up into his hair: touching him all over.

Hazama panted softly, and groaned again. The rain thundered against the roof, but even so, his moan could still be heard between them. He stroked down along his own body, and gave a cursory stroke down his own prick.

The doctor thought he might shame himself it he continued watching, so he began to talk instead. "You look good like this." He touched that supine back as he spoke. His hands, warm and sliding along his back, pulled unexpected pleasure out of Hazama, with little sparks of pain as they stroked over deep bruises still remaining from his capture and torture mere days ago. The pain did nothing to deaden his arousal, but raised it to new heights he had not found on his own. Perhaps it was true that certain things in him that _ had _ been re-connected incorrectly. Those searching fingers found another bruise and kneaded at it slowly, pulling soft moans of pleasure from him. He felt the prick between his lips twitch with each moan.

The doctor had a suspicion of what was happening. He knew that Hazama's body was aching from the trials he'd endured. He could feel the tenderness, and could tell that sensations of pain and pleasure might be getting blurred in the kid. So he dug in with his blunt nails. The response he gained was a harsh, gasped noise, Hazama’s mouth opening fully. His body shuddered and his hands clenched against the other man's thighs.

"Good? Or bad?" the doctor asked, smoothing the reddening lines with his palms. Though his voice was even, his stomach clenched and he felt the edge bolt closer at the sound of Hazama's voice.

He panted softly. This was an intense feeling and sitting back on his heels, he nodded. “Good enough,” he said shakily, his quaver making plain his ploy at calm. He licked his lips, and let himself be pulled forward for a kiss.

The doctor tasted himself on Hazama's lips, and it was intoxicating, like a mark of ownership.  _ People like me can’t have ties _ , he reminded himself. Maybe, but he could  _ mark  _ this boy. He could mark his back, his sides, his inner thighs. It would fade, until maybe there was another time they ever met. He pressed his tongue deeply into the boy's mouth, seeking more. He pulled back, eyes bright and wanting. He offered his fingers to Hazama's mouth again, this time with intent. "Slick my fingers, Hazama." Hazama practically pulled those skillful, elegant fingers to his mouth. Two fingers slipped past his lips, his tongue swirling about them. He traced the elegant curl of a knuckle with his tongue.

The doctor felt the flush burning over him again. He tried to think about anything other than the raw feeling of Hazama's tongue, or where it had just been. He kissed the boy's cheek and said, "You have a natural ability. It's like you aren't even worried about why you're this way, or what's wrong with you. You just live, a bright fire. I like you, my young friend." A kiss to the jaw, a kiss to the neck, then a sharp bite to the delicate muscle along the line of his neck and shoulder.

Hazama moaned out loud now, the thunder overhead masking the sound to just within the hut. He spoke softly, in, he had to admit, a panting if still calm whisper. "I've often been told I am perverse, that when others say go right, I must go left. In this, I do not regret going left."

"Mmmmm." The doctor pulled his fingers free. He spread the other's legs with his clean hand and touched to his entrance with spit-slicked digits. "How perverse are you?" he asked, tapping gently.

Hazama fought back the gasp, his hands clenching against the other man's shoulders. "If you are asking have I engaged in anal sex before, then no." He kissed just below the other man's ear.

"I can tell you've never done it before.” The doctor snickered. “I'm asking for your permission.” He swirled against the skin, testing to see if it was sensitive.

Hazama clung tightly to the other, his nails digging in. Such sensitivity was new to him, and it was causing trouble with his ability to focus. Those wicked swirls and teasing strokes from the other were maddeningly light and yet making full contact. Perhaps that was the point of this exercise. To make one lose themselves in sensation, and not think. Perhaps there was a point to this beyond the procreative. A moment to be nothing by physical sensation. It occurred to him that he had been asked a question as to whether this exercise could continue into advanced levels. He nodded, his rounded cheek brushing against the other's sharper one. The scratch of stubble brought Hazama more sharply into focus.

The doctor worked rapidly against his entrance, setting up a rhythm. He matched Hazama’s breathing, until it became a low moan.  _ Ah, there, like that _ . He had hoped so much that this would work. He had in his arms a young man--with all the urge and desire that surely roiled in him--who’d never had a chance to truly relieve his needs. And he was discovering, under the doctor’s fingertips, how he did in fact have a way to enjoy another’s touch. The nod, sweetly non-verbal, was enough. He pressed against the muscle, finding the breaks between the pulses of it, and quickly, gently worked inward with his still-slick fingers. He caught that mouth for kiss after kiss, pulling back after each one to see the lovely, lost, and needy expressions as they all tumbled over Hazama's face.

He was gasping for air now, soft and low. His eyes closed as he clung to the older man. He bit his lower lip to try and pull himself back to awareness. The doctor worked quickly, knowing he wouldn’t necessarily have much endurance for the intrusion. He used to the fullest his long fingers and unfair knowledge to strike deep inside Hazama. The boy arched his back hard as the doctor found his prostate. The night outside the windows flashed white with lightning. The thunder overhead blended into a mewling cry. "Touch me, Hazama, and I'll return the pleasure." He guided the other's hand back to his cock as he tapped rhythmically against that node inside. Hazama nodded. Speech was not quite an option. He changed position again, quickly slipping his mouth down over the other's prick. How much thicker it had gotten in the last moments, even firmer between his lips! He slicked him, licking over him. He marveled at his own eagerness. Where did it come from? This certainly wasn’t the safest way to do this. But then again, if he had wanted to worry about safety, he wouldn't be engaging in homosexual sex in a foreign country with a man whose name he did not even know. He wouldn't be in Vietnam at all for that matter.

The doctor groaned and thrust his fingers hard within Hazama. The young man was very tight, but his partner used ringfinger and thumb to soothe the outer ring of muscle.  _ Let me in _ , he thought. He felt himself nearing the edge quickly at the heat and wet wrapping around him, so pulled back. "Stop, stop... need to get..." His words were a little mish-mashed. He floundered and pointed at his pack in the corner. "Lubricant is a must. I have condoms, too." Hazama groaned as those fingers slid from him, and he was pressed back to the mat beneath them. The doctor quickly cleaned himself. Hazama watched him, and then noticed himself, fully aroused.

Well.

He could be fully erect it seemed, with the right treatment. Hazama was well and truly hard now, and, as he returned, the doctor brushed a hand testingly over him.

The doctor knelt once he had acquired what he needed and worked the condom onto himself. He leaned forward, asking, "May I have a taste?" At Hazama's slight nod, the doctor mouthed gently over Hazama's tip. Even if nothing special for the other, the war doctor had an overwhelming need for the feel of it in his mouth. He palmed over Hazama's legs, and pressed newly lubricated fingers within, sliding quickly back into place.

He gasped out, the older doctor's tongue touching at his frenulum. His hands dug into the short pale hair. " _ Onegai _ ," he gasped out, shivering as again, that press to his prostate jolted through him like the lightning outside.

With this much blood flow, Hazama seemed to appreciate this sort of attention after all. It might take extra effort, but Hazama's body could enjoy sex, it seemed. The doctor let his teeth graze the underside, then worked hard over him in the same rhythm as the pulses within. Hazama was panting for lungfuls of air by that point, and he did moan. One hand curled fingers into the other’s very short hair. His other hand dug into the mat beneath them.

The doctor was resisting the giggle with all his might. This was better than he'd thought, making Hazama lose his composure. That alone was addicting. The tug at his hair was a little painful, but worth it. He tongued at the urethral opening, tasting the oncoming precum. He realized that with so little experience of pleasure, he wouldn't last long like this. He finally pulled back and pressed himself to Hazama's entrance. He could feel the ring of muscle fluttering against his tip.

Hazama looked up at him. "Should I turn over? That makes things easier for prostate exams.” How could he be so destroyed with small touches, caresses and kisses? How much more was there to wring out of him? Surely, there must be a point at which the senses gave out, and could no longer take sensation.

The doctor was a bit disappointed. He wanted to watch that face when he (possibly for the first time) peaked. But, "You're right, you’re right. For the first time, it is easier." He grinned. "Next time, though, I'm going to take you like this. Just so you can plan. You'll have to practice a lot," he said with a wicked laugh. The rain was heavy, but the lightning had subsided into grouchy thunder.

He turned and sat seiza.He looked back over his shoulder, as his soon to be lover gently touched his shoulder and turned it into a caress of his upper arm. There was an odd shyness that he could feel slip over his features. This position contained a certain vulnerability as well. The doctor touched over his chest and arms, tracing scar patterns and broader expanses as he wished. He edged tightly to Hazama's backside, sliding back and forth against him.

A small gasp, but he didn't move. He leaned forward, onto his hands, making it easier in the dark for the other man to press against him. His breath caught at the press of the other's prick against him.

"I'm going to go slowly, get you used to it. I want you to try to relax." He kept talking, murmuring, keeping a constant stream of words between them. He kept one hand in the curve of Hazama's hip, holding him steady. As he eased inward, the doctor listened for every breath, every sigh, any noise of pain.

Hazama’s breathing hitched, and he choked back a cry. How could it still be so tight, the other man having taken care to fully explore him? A soft noise of pain did escape him, and instantly the doctor stopped. He stroked Hazama’s hips, and up over his back. He murmured softly against the skin, Hazama not quite able to make out the words. The doctor was of the mind that nothing was or had ever been as sweet as this boy, here, in his arms, giving himself over to trust and lust. He breathed softly into the center of the scarred back until he thought it safe to move again. And like this, with that thought, he finally pressed to Hazama’s very center. He guided the boy’s body up, and turned his torso. Their hips were locked tightly together. He pulled Hazama back to seated on his lap, kissing his shoulder and neck softly. "There," he finally whispered.

Hazama nodded, and arched his back, taking him just a little deeper. It didn’t hurt, and  a soft moan slipped from him again. The soft rumbles of thunder over them gave them some cover still The rain kept their secret from possible prying eyes. They kissed. The doctor’s hands wrapped around Hazama’s chest and waist as their mouths worked slowly against one another's.

The kissing was intense and slow. For all his enjoyment of the boy's loss of composure, the doctor himself was almost lost. There was one more thing. He rocked his hips gently, trying to ease the need in him.

Hazama gasped, but was pleased and surprised at the ease with which the other one could move within him. He murmured a soft "onegaishimasu" close to his ear.

Gods, but Japanese was a beautiful language. And his formality was sensual and lovely. The doctor gave a soft sigh. "Sure, anything you want," he answered in English. He sat up a little, changing the angle, and began to work his hips, slowly, in and out.

Hazama couldn't stop the soft moans coming forth now, in time with the thrusts. His back arched again, with a worrying strength. His legs moved on their own, spreading, allowing greater access. The warm hands on his hips worked his own easily back and forth. There was a maddening lack of things to cling to, to grip into, to hold onto… And before he meant to, Hazama had completely lost himself to sensation. Surely the threshold for being able to stand stimulation would come before his finish.

The doctor was also feeling the  _ need _ to work harder, the  _ need _ to press upward, hard and fast, into Hazama's opening body. He caught one arm around his chest, held him tightly, and lifted them both up a bit. His hips surged forward, harder with each stroke. Hazama's cries were coming one after the other, and the doctor’s were growing in frequency as well. With his other hand, the doctor at last touched over the boy's prick, hot with arousal. He pumped over him in time with his working hips. The new angle also let him hit the prostate rather reliably on each stroke. "Kuroo," he groaned, not even sure what to say. "Kuroo!"

Hazama wished he knew the other man's name! Much later, this would be his one regret from the night, that he could not say the name with such fervor as the other doctor now said his own. Even later, however, he would be glad that he’d never quite had the chance. But that was beside the point. In the present, Hazama cried out loudly, the other man's hand coming up to clap harshly over his mouth to quiet him. Hazama gripped the doctor’s wrist, his senses overtaking him. He could feel his body in motion, relished that his body at the total use of another. The warmth of a hand against his stomach, against his mouth, the scent of aftershave, rain, and sex. The sounds of rain, and rhythmic thrusting, of soft panting and the occasional grunt in his ear. The feel of slight pain overrun with pleasurable sensation, and the texture of elegant fingers against his lips, strong muscle and light hair against his palms, and stubble against his ear.

The doctor felt the tension in Kuroo's taught body, knew what was coming. He could feel the wet starting to pulse from his drawn-tight sac. "Go ahead, Kuroo. Come for me. Come for me, Kuroo.” He let Hazama fall forward to brace against the rough floor. He quickened his pace of thrusts. He, too, was close. He panted into the hut. "Come for me, Kuroo," he whispered more harshly.

Hazama clamped a hand over his own mouth, moaning helplessly into it. He could feel the odd pulse and swell of the other's finish within the condom, a new flood of warmth within his own body. He panted as the doctor worked roughly over his prick, finding the most sensitive areas that made his own hips work forward. There was a harsh, arching moment, when he could feel the pounding of his own heartbeat in his temples and chest, and then finally an almost sobering  _ release _ . All the world whited out into nothingness. Hazama’s arms failed to hold him up anymore, so he landed hard onto the matt.

The doctor held onto the boy's body as he shook. His cries were delicious, even muffled as they were. He continued to thrust within him until there was not a drop left inside him. He dropped a dozen kisses to Hazama's wet skin, and held him cradled until he could bear to move again. He found himself able to withdraw (to something that sounded like a protest) and do a rudimentary clean up. Best to hide the evidence before daring to fall asleep. The sky had begun to clear, and Hazama was still, curled to one side and still breathing roughly. Finally, he crawled to the mat and touched Hazama's shoulder. He leaned into his face and smirked. "You might want to put on some trousers," he finally said.

The loss of warmth, the loss of penetration, no,  _ connection _ , left Hazama still shivering. He curled on his side. Was it like this for everyone? Was it always this world-ending feeling? As though one had traveled faster than the speed of sound, and then stopped suddenly? Hazama’s chest ached from his ragged breathing. His pulse still raced. All of this build for these moments of feeling the whole of existence at once? The soft touch to his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up at that sharp smirk, and then down at himself. He reached for the abandoned clothing, and shook it for bugs, and quickly slipped it on.

The doctor caught him for one more long, deep kiss. The boy looked like he was thinking too much. He nipped at his earlobe and murmured, "You okay?" and rubbed the shivering shoulders.

Hazama looked up at the doctor. He nodded. "I think so." He let himself be pulled into a warm embrace for a few minutes. Who would've thought the doctor with no name would be the type to embrace after an act that could only be debauchery? Did others wish to, or was this more perverseness on his part?

If so, perversity was the only way for him.

The doctor felt odd. Men like him, and like Hazama, weren’t supposed to get this moment. This was for lovers named Romeo and Juliet. He shrugged at himself, though he knew it would perplex Hazama. "Come here... let's stay close, till you're all right again." Another kiss. Why could he not stop kissing this man? Why did he want the closeness so much?

It didn't matter and wouldn't matter till morning.

END


End file.
